


i forget where we were

by maybe_now



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: /the/ laurel, 3x01, Angst, Extended Scene, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8123344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_now/pseuds/maybe_now
Summary: “I will never forgive him for what he did to you, you know that right?”  She’s pleading at this point, but then she’s never been in a position of power—her comfort place—in her relationship with Wes. She checked her pride at the door about thirty unanswered texts ago. [extended scene of Laurel and Wes' confrontation at the end of 3x01]





	

**Author's Note:**

> wes x laurel owns me.
> 
>  
> 
> prompted by wesleyslaurel on tumblr  
> (hmu i'm maybenowforeverlate on tumblr)
> 
> (also, yeah, yeah, the title is a song by ben howard. titles are the death of me)

 

* * *

 

 

_i forget where we were_

 

* * *

 

 

There aren’t words for the way her stomach drops when Wes finally tells her what’s wrong.

There aren’t words, because how is she supposed to fix something she can’t change?

“I will never forgive him for what he did to you, you know that right?” 

She’s pleading at this point, but then she’s never been in a position of power—her comfort place—in her relationship with Wes. She checked her pride at the door about thirty unanswered texts ago.

“Of course. And I… I wish I didn’t equate you with him, I just…”

He loses his words, and he takes hers too.  Laurel knows how futile wishing to forget is.  How impossible it is to erase memories.  

Her head is tilted back to look him in the eyes—she stares at him, begging him to change his mind, to not shut her out.  There’s something so pained in his gaze, like it’s hurting him too.  She knows her eyes are glassy. Knows he can see how he’s affecting her.

 Laurel knows, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he ignores her, he’ll never be able to forget what Frank did.

But how can she say that to him after his biological father was shot while he stood a foot away? How can she be the one to extinguish the hope that he can forget?

She wants to be selfish and press this, but Wes has been through so much— more than the rest of them have.  She wants him to find peace.

Their faces have gravitated closer together, and the look in his eyes, the tension between them—it all feels so reminiscent of the kiss they shared in Ohio that she wants to cry.  Because they are so far apart from each other, compared to back then.

Because missing him over the past four months just has her whole body screaming at her to lean in, to meet him halfway and sink into him. Give him something new, something better, something more, to be the first thing he thinks when he looks at her.

But Wes has a Meggy, even if this magnetism between them is making him, them, forget.

And while Laurel might be that girl _, could_ be that girl, even, Wes can’t be that guy.

And if Meggy is actually nice—and Wes had made sure to tell her she is—nice and normal and good, then she doesn’t want to put him in that situation.

Because she knows Wes.  And if they do this, if they give in to this, he’ll equate her with something other than Frank.  He’ll equate her with cheating on a really nice girl, a girl who cannot be even close to as fucked up as they are and does not deserve this.

It is better to deny herself this and focus on trying to salvage whatever it is they have left between them.

“Meggy’s on her way,” she manages, resisting the urge to sniff and give away that she’s moments from letting go of her tears. “I should go.”

Laurel can’t stay here any longer, not with the intensity in his eyes, like he’s begging her to make all the shit in the world disappear.  

This will probably be the last time they talk alone for a long time.

One last glance back reveals Wes dragging a hand over a pained face. 

She doesn’t even feel vindicated that Wes’ choice hurts him too. It only makes her hurt more. She can’t find a way to frame this where either of them win.

Blinking back tears she reaches for the door handle—

“Wait _, Laurel_ —“

The words seem to rip out of him, rough like he fought them all the way until they were out in the air.

His hand has caught her elbow, turning her to face him with a gentleness paradoxical to the desperation in his tone. 

Laurel can’t help the tear that slips down her cheek when her attention snaps to how his large hand curls around her arm, the pressure soft but insistent.   Agitated, she goes to swipe at it, but instead of her cheek she hits a hand.

Wes’ hand, that beat her to it, Wes’ thumb that gently skates across her skin, rubbing away her tear.

The act only causes more to fall. Laurel hates that she can’t control her reaction, that she can barely control herself when it comes to him.

It’s like he can’t help himself either, because now that she’s really crying, Wes pulls her into his arms.  She buries her head in his chest, giving herself this, letting her arms snake tight around his middle.

He doesn’t seem shocked by the strength of her response—he wraps around her just as hard, chin resting on top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her hair, “I’m sorry.”

She sniffs, trying to stop crying. “I’m sorry too.”

Sorry that she can’t change his mind, can’t change the past, can’t change Frank and what he did…

She gives herself this too: “I miss you.”

His fingers fist in her shirt and for a second she thinks they might’ve swayed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, the only words he seems to be able to bring himself to say, and she knows.

This is a goodbye.  She doesn’t know for how long, but it’s goodbye.

Unwinding her arms, she pushes at his chest.  It takes a second for him to loosen up enough to let her go, and in that time she’s dried her tears on her shirt.

She hasn’t looked at his face since she originally tried to leave, and she doesn’t know if she can handle it now.

Laurel also can’t help herself.

There are no answers in his eyes, no answers written on his expression.

The sound of her clearing her throat seems to suffocate under all the words not said.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and nods.

“Okay,” she says, and leaves his apartment.

He doesn’t stop her this time.

There’s a girl trudging up the stairs with a bike, and Laurel knows without question that it’s Meggy. 

It’s Meggy, because one glance at her and Laurel knows she’s the kind of girl whose presence warms up a room, makes the edges softer.

Laurel manages a quick smile of acknowledgment, and Meggy’s smile in response is bright, sunny.

Laurel hurries past her, not wanting to be introduced, not wanting to have to pull herself together more than she had to in order to smile at her.

“Hey Wes! I know I’m late, but why are you already at the door?”

Wes’ low murmur floats down the stairs in response.

“That was Laurel?  _The_ Laurel?” Meggy says excitedly, before Laurel hears Wes’ door click shut, before she’s shuffled down too many stairs to be able to keep listening.

Meggy’s voice is as kind as she looks.  Warm, kind, good, bright, happy… Laurel doesn’t know how to be those things for Wes.

But the words she overheard are hard to push out of mind: _‘The’ Laurel_ …

He must have been missing her too.

 

Knowing doesn’t change anything between them, but it does make the hurt sweeter.

**Author's Note:**

> always always looking for wes x laurel prompts. feel free to leave some in the comments!


End file.
